


Sharps

by Victorbji



Category: Sharps - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Cock Piercing, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Abuse, F/M, Gender Identity, Genital Piercing, M/M, Multi, Nipple Piercings, Non-Consensual Tattooing, Pegging, Piercings, Shibari, Tattoo, Tattoos, Tongue Piercings, Unhealthy Relationships, coercive tattooing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorbji/pseuds/Victorbji
Summary: Adam, an Accounting Major, is celebrating his graduation. Alone. At a house party. His only legacy is how easily he bruises and his low tolerance for pain: the nickname "Silky" has followed him throughout college in his begrudging group of "friends." While drinking in a solitary dark corner, this second-year senior is accosted by someone foreign to his Ivy League life: a tattoo artist hellbent on terrorizing him for being plain. A little buzzed and easily antagonized, Adam lets the tattoo artist trick him in to making a small legend of himself.The artist, nicknamed "Anubis," isn't done with Adam after the party, however. He will tease, berate, and stalk Adam into a cat-and-mouse relationship: coercing him into several sharp additions along the way. Holding Adams secret- that he is aroused by pain- hostage and fabricating several new secrets for Adam to hide, Anubis drags this would-be accountant into a life of tattoos, piercings, kink, and submission.





	1. Prologue

"You don't remember anything?" This guy I supposedly met, part of my missing memories, was already awake and starting his second cigarette. He sat on the stairs above me: a seasoned graduate of hangover school among the passed out freshmen.

"I remember being angry... and throwing up. I was really drunk. Blackout. Shitfaced...." Did I bust my head on something? I reached up to feel the center of the throbbing, but it was just that: pain, no puncture.

"Blackout? Maybe after I pierced you: you kept drinking until you got sick. Before, you were so quiet, there's no way you were already smashed." His voice hitched, like he was nervous. I sat up abruptly. _After **what**?_ A shirtless frat brother with one shoe shambled out of the kitchen.

"Bruh. Left Nipple the Party King. Here's a... soda for... Party King..." He handed me a soda can off of the banister like it was a royal scepter, bowed, then continued up the stairs. _This is open. And warm._ Left Nipple? I realized my head wasn't the only thing hurting.

"Congratulations on your new legacy."


	2. Easy to Offend

It was the first party I had ever come to, and it was a mistake. The room swelled with barely 18's: freshman who, by the end of their first year, had learned the in's and out's of party etiquette; and me, the second year senior who couldn't do much more than chug whatever piss flavored beer this was to avoid talking to people. I graduate in a few days. I don't really want to talk to cute girls about my exciting accounting future. I don't know what I expected.

"Wow. That's a trophy husband in waiting." I looked around. Some jackass wearing too many shirts for late-spring strolls up, a red cup in each hand.

"Trophy husband?"

"You know. You're going to be that guy: not really attractive, but good enough to look at. Your wildest memories involve challenging non-threatening authority figures and breaking rules that have no consequences. You'll keep your head down and make the money and buy the house like you're supposed to. Man, some single mom is going to absolutely fall head over heels for you."

"Yeah, well, it's better than being some washed up loser." My head was already pounding.

"At least losers are trying when they lose. You've already quit the game. S i l k y b o i."

"Who the fuck told you about that stupid nickname?! It's been fucking years, it's not even funny anymore. Fuck off!" The tall guy proceeded to not 'fuck off' and sat down next to me, invading my dark corner. He was out of place here: a house full of plastered Chads and Bethanys in designer clothes, and here some thriftstore-clad foreign exchange student.

"OOOoooh some many f-bombs. Scary white boy." He took a long drink from the cup in his left hand, and then gave me the cup in his right. "You're gonna need something stronger to while away your time in a corner. You look like you're on your deathbed. Must be graduating soon."

"I'm just going to miss school. And my friends."

"Where are your friends? Off making wilder memories than you?" There was a guy getting laid on the staircase, a beer pong champion being dethroned in the kitchen, and an amateur DJ flurried with women. I didn't know any of them. I knew one guy here, and he disappeared as soon as I turned my head.

This was a stupid idea. I want to leave.

"You've got some reputation though. Thin skin. Is it true you bruise easier than a peach, S i l k y?"

"No! And I'm not 'thin skinned' I just don't enjoy being injured in stupid stunts. What a stupid fucking rumor."

"The only thing you'll have from your extended college stay. No drunken piercings? No ‘I lost a bet’ tats?"

"I don't play stupid games. I don't care what you think."

"I'm just reading the mood. And more than a few people are avoiding the old guy sulking in the corner; they know who you are, they just don’t care. You're the majority, the mediocre, the average. No distinguishing features. Is that a bald patch?” This nobody reached up to rub the back of my head; I smacked his hand away.

"What's wrong with being normal? What is your problem, you're just some tatted up freak." His dark skin was crossed with tattoos as black as his hair. So many visible tattoos and piercings would leave anyone blacklisted at this school. "I haven't even seen you on campus, do you even go here?"

"Ah. So you agree with me; you think you're mediocre too. At least there is some fire left in you. You want to make this last party count?" He smoothly changed the subject.

"I will make it count on my own, fuck off." I turned to leave, but this asshole grabbed my arm. I swung on him, the bad beer going to my head. He blocked it easily, laughing in my face.

"Let me pierce you, in front of everyone. Right over there, on that island."

"Pierce? You gay or some shit?"

"No. I'm a professional." He brandished a business card and then promptly dropped it, losing it in a puddle of questionable liquid.

"Why?"

"I like to pick on vanilla boys like you, peel up the layers of repression." He held both hands in front of him, and wriggled his fingers when he said "peel." It was unnerving.

"I'm not repressed."

"Then let's _go_." The beer pong had just been knocked off of the island by a handy brawl. There was time before they set it back up. What am I thinking? My body acted without my brain, I walked over to the island, and swept the rest of the trash off of it.

"Keep it above the waist." I downed three shots, and don't remember the rest.

 

***

  
It came back to me in pieces up to a point; until the shots. The tattoo guy got up from the stairs to leave, but loomed over me first.

"C'mon Party King. Let's go get breakfast."

"No thanks. I need to go back to my dorm and pack." I felt defeated, nauseous, and pathetic. I couldn't handle another minute with this self-important hack.

"Whatever guy. You need to wash that with saline solution- not soap- three to six times a day. It's gonna take that fucker three months to heal, so don't slack off-"

"Wash?! I'm not keeping it!"

"Tch! What a waste of a legend. What will people think when they meet you a few years from now? You know they're gonna ask; you gotta keep it." He rifled around in his jacket. "Look, if you change your mind and have any questions, here's my shop. And clean it even if you remove it. See you around, Party King. Left Nipple." He handed me a crumpled business card.

"My name is Adam."

"Boring. Get a better name before we meet again." He waved off my 'boring' name as he walked away. He never told me his name.  
I uncrumpled the card; it was sticky. _What the hell kind of new age, cultural appropriating bullshit name is Anubis?_

***

  
_Christ, I pierced someone while they were blackout drunk. He could bring assault charges on me._ Anubis pulled out another panic-cigarette. _If I just brush it off, his non-confrontational ass won't even bring it up. I can't lose my license, I'll fucking starve to death._

His shop wasn't far, so he decided to walk off the nerves. He didn't go to this school; he had never gone to any college. But spoiled kids love to get tattoos and piercings on daddy's dime. Placing the shop strategically across from the Greek-quarter of Olympiad University was what kept beer in the fridge and real food on the menu.

He shambled into the shop, more hungover than he realized before his trek. Collapsing on the waiting room couch he called out for aid.

“Olivia. Ginger ale. Please.”

It was quiet; no one had turned on the ambient tough-guy rock yet. Anubis heard a fridge close, and a beautiful, gothic barbie clunked out of the back room on her deadly vintage platforms.

“How did advertising go?” She used her long black nails to pop the tab on the can for him. The sizzle and fizz made his mouth water.

“Fantastic. I made this white bread guy into some party legend and there will probably be chads lining up at the shop next time there’s free alcohol on campus.” He guzzled the drink like lifegiving water “and that guy will probably be in here too. He’s got some weird fetish he doesn’t know about yet.”

“A fetish you say? Please, don’t spare the details.”

“I get this guy to let me pierce him: some nobody. Classically handsome in the boring sort of way, strong jawline or some shit. But he needs something to spice it up.”

“Obviously.”

“He’s reluctant, but I insult him enough that he crawls up on this kitchen island after downing a few shots and screams ‘Left nipple! Right here!’ at me. Everyone stops, and they see this pasty accounting major without his shirt.” _She doesn’t need to know he was drunk, because I didn’t._

“Oh my god, was he drunk? Did you pierce someone while-”

“No! Uh, we had been talking before, he didn’t seem drunk.”

“He wasn’t drunk?”

“Not at all...! Anyway, so I pull out my little travel kit. You know, just in case I get into some immediate situation.”

“That makes no sense and it’s unsanitary... Go on.”

“And as soon as he see’s the needle, you won’t believe what happens next.”

“I take the clickbait.”

“Dude starts _getting it up_ in front of God and everyone-”

“-Anubis! **No** -!”

“ **Yes**! It was completely visible. So I keep going- what else am I supposed to do? And he screams like a little bitch- but, it’s not all pain. Dude's moaning. Then he cried for ten minutes. There wasn’t even any blood to speak of. But man, everyone loved it. Everyone was so drunk they forgot about the whole crying bit, they hoisted him up like in some cheesy movie and start chanting ‘Party king! Party king! Left Nipple! Party King!’”

“White people have no class.”

“Liv, you’re white.”

“It’s true. What happened after that?”

“This is the worst part, hold on to your wig. This is when I realize the shots hit him harder than I thought: he came down, and he was shambling around ready to hit the floor. So I took him, and I tried to force him to lay down. He dragged me with him, starts slurring about “am I sexy now?” and runs his hand all over me. He tried to kiss me. It was so pathetic that I laughed in his face, and then he passed out.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

“Right? I gave him my card; if he remembers any of it he might start stalking me.”

“How _exciting_. Oh, what if he shoots up the shop? Our corpses will be on the news! I need to pick out a good post-mortem memorial picture; my mom would use that middle-school-horse-girl picture she loves."

“That's too dark even for me, Liv." Anubis tried to take another drag on his cigarette, but confusing his hands dashed the ginger ale all over his chest. "Ugh. Marketing.”


	3. Easy to Trick

_My dorm is packed already. That jackass didn't need to know that._ I sat on a box full of textbooks, eating a WcDonald's biscuit and lemon-lime fountain soda. The night came back to me in pieces... I remember being too close to too many people; guys losing their minds, and most of the girls rolling their eyes but snapping me anyway. _There were definitely tits at some point. Glad I remember that at least._

The fond memories were short lived: my shirt rubbed against the raw piercing. Even under a bandage it was tender to the slightest movement and my eyes began to water. _I really am a little bitch. Fuck._

Stuffing the rest of the biscuit in my mouth, I held the shirt away from my chest and walked carefully to the standard-issue mirror on the closet door. _Guess it's good I never got a roommate this year_ I thought as I slid the shirt over my shoulders. My underclass friends paired off in four for the new suites. They ran out of room and I ended up in the auxiliary dorm because I didn’t have a group. _Lucky me._

"Uugh. Shit." Every type of pain throbbed through my chest. It stabbed, it burned, it pulsed. It felt like it was oozing even; I really didn't want to take off the bandage. In my mind the piercing had grown into a gaping sore: I was afraid to look at it... but it had to come out. I picked at the corner of the tape with my barely-there nails and ripped as fast as I could. I barely felt the pain of the tape between the headache and my swollen nipple. It was twice the size of my unpierced nipple, but still small, and extra red: no gaping wound.

"FFFFuuuuuucckkkk." _I can't do this._ I grabbed the bag full of first aid stuff I bought, and doused a cotton ball with peroxide. _If I soak it it'll come out easier?_   I closed my eyes and pushed the soaked cotton ball onto my chest.

"UuUuhhnnn!"

It hurt like nothing I could describe. I broke my arm in fifth grade, and I had my tonsils removed. I had a girl dump me for my best friend. Those were all nothing.

The pain from my nipple sent shivers down my spine. The burning sensation seemed to spread throughout my body... I was on fire. My nipple throbbing seemed to be pulsing all the way down to my cock... while warm tingling, like fingertips, crawled up my neck and into my skull.

"Sh... shit..." My ears were ringing pleasantly. It's not like I never knew this stuff turned me on: I had been actively avoiding it for more than a decade. But this felt better than anything I had let myself do in years. All two girlfriends, all the weird porn didn't make up for... for whatever this was.

 _I'm such a... fucking psychopath._ I couldn't bring myself to move the cotton ball for both pain and pleasure: It hurt to much to wash but felt too good to remove entirely. I lowered myself to my knees, using my other hand to unbutton my pants. I began to slide my hand up and down my dick... but stopped. I looked in the mirror to talk it over with myself:

“This is something you can’t come back from, my guy.” My voice broke and disgust rose up in my throat. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to be a freak. I threw the cotton ball across the room and zipped up. But that wasn’t disgust in my throat, it was-

“Hhrrggllluuuuhgghhh!!!” I vomited that dry-ass breakfast biscuit (with lemon-lime fizz) all over the grey office carpet, adding another stain to the time worn collection.

“Ugh. I’ll take it out... tomorrow.” I began to move the boxes to my car; someone else could clean this shit up next year for all I fucking care.

***

 _It turns out I really am a fucking pussy. I have a nipple piercing now, because I can't even get myself to fucking unscrew it._  The tattoo shop loomed in front of me. It was every bit as tacky as someone who called themselves "Anubis:" green and black and every other rave-chic color smashed together; every cringe-y tattoo I’ve ever seen on any White trash plastered the door. Their logo was a Jackal. _Oh I get it. Anubis. Cause he’s a piece of shit with a hard-on for Egypt or something._ Then I realized... _Oh God, he owns the whole shop. He isn’t just some skeeze._

I didn't know anything about reputable tat shops. Looking them up, the only other one with good reviews (not deemed unsanitary by the state) was fifty miles out. This is a respectable town, after all. It's been a whole week since the party, but I was busy moving into my new apartment. And putting it off. And trying again and again to take it out myself. _I really hope it will still heal alright... It’s clean._

Someone walked out of the double glass doors, and I took the chance to slip in behind them to avoid the bell announcing me. There were actual licenses on the wall, all with legal names: none of them "Anubis." An attendant was at a counter on my left, but didn't seem intent on bothering me. I stood awkwardly while she unpacked boxes.

"Is... is Anubis here?"

"Yea, but he's with a client. I can help you if you'd like." She didn't look up from her work.

"No, uh, it's kinda... I just need to talk to him." The attendant snapped her head up, then peered at me like she _knew_.

"Oh. You're one of his outside clients." She smirked. "He should be done in twenty minutes, maybe... I don't really know. You can wait on the couch." She waved her hand and continued unpacking myriad, teeny, tiny body jewelry packages.  
Time crawled with nothing but edgelord grunge rock playing too loudly on the overhead speakers to mark it’s passing. There were no clocks, and no customers. I stared at the clock on my phone, moving my fingers to pretend I had someone to text. 20 minutes had passed. I can’t just leave. I don’t want him to think I’m waiting on him though. _I just need help getting it out. Maybe she can help me_ -

“Actually, ma’am, can you-”

“King! You came at last.” Anubis’ shit-eating voice came from one of the piercing stalls. He was ducking out, and spread his arms wide in some grand welcome. _I missed my chance. Fuck._ “I’m just cleaning up. Actually, Aiden, can you finish this up?”

“Sure thing, b0ssss.” Anubis said something to his client, and then sauntered out of the room. I stood a little too quickly to avoid being at ass-level.

“You decided to keep it?”

“No, uh... can we go into one of the rooms?”

“A moment alone? Of course... That one on the end.” Anubis pointed, pushing me toward it. It was odd he made me walk ahead in his own shop, but I also had the distinct feeling I was trapped; being chased. I entered the stall and stood awkwardly beside the chair while he clicked the door shut. “What’s bothering you, King?”

“Why are you calling me King?”

“Short for 'Party King.' Has a better ring to it than ‘Adam.’ Is that what you wanted to ask?”

“No. I uh, can’t get this thing out. It's stuck... or something." I felt like a child that had been tricked into some awful scheme.

“Painful? I thought you enjoyed that sort of thing. It’s been almost a week, it shouldn’t hurt that bad” he grinned wide. I didn't know if he was serious or not; making fun of my low pain tolerance or lying to my face. His face darkened “unless you let it get infected-”

“-no! I’ve been cleaning it like you said. I also Googled... how to clean it and stuff.”

“Google. You should have been in here four days ago. Take off your shirt and get in the chair.” I don’t get him: he seems incensed, but pleased... stern? I felt embarrassed, but was caught off guard by how serious Anubis was taking my complaint. He put on gloves, pulled out some sort of sanitation kit, and turned on a focus light. When I sat down in the chair, I felt like I was with a doctor, not some freak who cruised Greek parties.

“Wait, did you say I enjoyed this-ah!” He had only grazed the bar slightly- to check if it was clean- but it hurt worse than ten broken arms from fifth grade. That was just enough to give me away: I couldn’t tell him I hated it, but my body couldn’t lie. I turned bright red, my pants shifting against my will. Anubis remained serious.

“That’s what I said. Obviously, you do.” He used a dropper to dot the bar with antiseptic, then dabbed the areas where the bar met skin. “Did you clean this with salt water?”

“Shit! Stop! Ah!” I had been hoping to hide it, but I was halfway to hard and unable to move. I even couldn’t clean it without getting hard, but it was even worse when someone else did it. “I already cleaned it this morning! With! With peroxide!”  
Anubis looked me in the eyes, spinning the bar in place just to upset me.

"Fuck!"

“I told you to use saline solution, you stupid cunt.”

“I told **you** to _take it out_! It fucking _burns_!” I was trying to act superior, but it didn't mean shit while I was panting like a dog.

“If I take it out, I don’t want to ever see you in this shop again.” Anubis said it like a threat, but I had already planned to stay the fuck away for good. “I did this for free; do you know how much it costs to pierce a nipple? And repiercing scar tissue is a hassle.”

“What are you fucking talking about? Repiercing?!” Anubis unscrewed the ball-end on the bar and pulled it through quickly. I felt every millimeter even though the bar was smooth and unmarred; it felt like he was tearing my nipple off.

“Mmf! Fuck!”

“I’m saying that you shouldn’t give up something that makes you this horny.” Anubis began to slide his hand up my thigh. He sneered. “It’s already done. Although, it’s going to hurt either way... are you sure you don't want me to put it back in?"  
Anubis stopped short of my crotch.

“If you really like it... you can come get a different piercing when this one’s healed, when it’s stopped burning. Maybe your ear: somewhere less scandalous. Somewhere you can twist and turn while you jerk off.” I smacked his hand off of my leg but couldn't say anything to him. My eyes were already watering again. He made me sick but he wasn't wrong and I wanted to die.

I lay silent in the chair. Anubis looked me over: I was the picture of shame, my red face had spread to my ears, neck and chest. My nipple was burning along with my whole body and my dick was hot; it was so fucking hot in here. The room is way too small. He kept going.

"How long have you been pretending you don't like being hurt? Since that 'stupid rumor,' maybe? Or maybe... middle school? That’s when I figured out what get’s me going; right when I turned 14." A look of cruel fascination had come over him. Anubis leaned an elbow onto the headrest, and breathed into my ear:

“...do you want me to put it back in?” He almost purred. It was silent for a moment; we could hear another customer entering the shop, but he didn't move. “I’ll pierce the other one for you right now, free. Or tomorrow. They should match.” The hot room, his ragged breathing; my dick had only swollen more.

Anubis leaned back and looked me over, and it was like I could hear him thinking: _He just can't bring himself to say yes._

I nodded.

"You have to say it." He said flatly while he fanned himself absently with his hand. Beads of sweat were beginning to dot his head. "This is a business, you have to consent out loud."

“I. I want it." Anubis beamed, his half lidded eyes studying me.

"What do you want?"

"Put it back in."

“You’re the King..." he rolled up his sleeves and put on fresh gloves "And the other? It’s on the house.”

“...Okay. Yeah." He began pulling out his full piercing set. I placed my hand over my eyes momentarily, embarrassed or ashamed: one and the same, really. Anubis rolled up a clean towel, and motioned to my mouth.

“Bite down on this. I don’t want the other customers to hear you moaning and think this is some kind of kink playroom. Sometimes people bring their kids."

“I don’t moan.”

“Right. Well, no yelling then. Bite down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITS:  
> Changed part of the text where Adam describes feeling the thread of the bar being pulled out; APP standards requires internal tapping.  
> I decided to change the tense I use to third person, so this chapter will be fixed eventually.


	4. Artwork: Anubis and Adam Portrait

Anubis and Adam


	5. Easy to Distract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the tense to third person. I'm going to change the previous chapters later.

He had been drunk for the first piercing. He hadn't been anticipating when Anubis pulled it out only a few minutes ago; the pain was quick, unexpected. But now with the towel in his mouth and his left nipple empty and bleeding, he worked himself into a frenzy while Anubis prepared everything for the piercing and reinsertion.

"First I'm gonna get all this sterile stuff out- do you remember anything from the party?" Adam shook his head. He could only see Anubis shoulder past the focus light; he heard ripping sounds and crumpling plastic. "Good. This'll be more enjoyable. Like your first time." Adam thought he saw toothy grin in the shadow of the lamp.

"You like this guy" he held up a thick, long needle "You know, when I pierced you at that party, you were raging. I'm surprised they didn't give you some.... Phallic nickname. Is that right, phallic? Like a dick nickname. A dickname." Adam was unamused. He couldn't take his eyes off of the needle; it seemed so innocuous but he felt it in his abdomen. The tight knot of nausea... and desire. He pushed the towel out of his mouth.

"Wait, people saw my dick?"

"Just your bulge. Saw, joked, forgot." He tucked the towel back into his mouth "Don't worry, they were hammered beyond belief," Although Anubis was sure some people had videos, but knew Adam didn't have any friends who would pass it along to him. He didn't have to know. He ripped open another small package; the smell of antiseptic followed, and in a moment he was rubbing a small, cold cloth over the pierced nipple.

It hurt.

Adam could feel the wound like it was a gaping hole. Each time Anubis ran the cloth over it, the tiny passage rubbed against itself in the space left by the bar. He did it roughly, rubbing it in.

_Why the fuck am I like this?_ At this point they were both steadily ignoring the rigid tent he had pitched in his shorts. But each time Anubis grazed his nipple, Adam's hips tensed and pushed upwards against his will.

"'ust ut it bah ihn." He said, muffled.

"You can't rush safety!" He said in a mock-PSA voice. He pulled a pair of forceps off of the table and clicked them twice "Besides, I have to make sure it goes in the hole straight and doesn't pierce you a new one. You need to hold still, hips included." The color rose up across Adams chest and face again, but he just nodded. He clenched his fists by his sides as Anubis leaned over him and carefully grabbed his nipple with the cold forceps. It screamed with pain; Adam let out a low screech through the towel, but held still. Anubis held the needle up to tease him, then inched it back into the hole, the fresh bar threaded on the end.

"You're doing good, King." The needle was through. While he was unscrewing it from the bar, he lost concentration and his elbow drooped down to graze Adams dick.

"Fck!" Adam cursed through the cloth, jerking away instinctively. He spit the towel out again. "Stay off my dick, asshole!"

"Why, what are you gonna do? Cry? Piss your pants? Maybe-"

"I'm gonna hit you in the fucking face." Anubis lost his good humor, and slammed Adam back onto the table.

"You want me to rip your nipple out you piece of shit? Cause if you do that again I might not let go in time! Stay fucking still-"

***Knock Knock Knock***

"Anubis? Do you need any muscle in there?"

"No, Aiden! Just doing a walk-in piercing! Okay, thanks!"

"Uh huh! Your other appointment is here early!"

"Not my problem, we make appointments for a reeaaasonn!"

"A-Ok Boss." He turned back on Adam.

"Look. I gotta put the ball in this one and then you can leave."

"You said you would do the other one."

"You can't fucking handle it. Your dick is about to explode and your homophobia is making you unwieldy."

"I'm not-"

"Hush. I strap you to the chair or I don't do the other one."

"What the fuck kind of chair has straps on it?"

"A modified piercing chair. Some people want piercings but can't hold still by nature." He began to roll out the straps from the side. Adam was too stunned to reject the thought and just watched blankly.

"What the fuuuuck. What the fuck?" He casually changed the subject while he tightened the latches.

"Does anyone play with your nipples?"

"It's none of your business." He was now strapped down across his shoulders and by his waist. He reconsidered what he just said; the person piercing his nipples might actually need to know. "I haven't had a girlfriend in a year and a half."

"That's rough buddy." He dropped a hand onto Adam's shoulder, sitting back down beside Him. "Nobody will be able to mess with them for months; it's unsanitary. So-" He licked his lips "Wanna send off?"

"A WHAT-"

"You want me to play with it for a minute?" He draped himself across Adam's bare chest like a cat. "You know, for the memories."

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU FREAK, I'M NOT GAY."

"It's just a nipple dude, it's not gay until our dicks are involved. I'm doing you a favor."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? LET ME GO."

"I'm just joking. I told you, I like to pick on repressed college boys." The admission came back to Adam in hazy pieces.

"Right. Just fucking do it then." Anubis intentionally misunderstood him. He placed the towel back in Adam's mouth; Adam closed his eyes as he braced for the needle.

He was quick, but could manage a great deal in a few seconds. He placed his lips on Adams chest, and flicked it with his tongue before tracing his areola and gently placing his teeth on his hardening nipple.

"w-WHat the FUCK!"

"You said 'Just fucking do it then.' I thought you were trying to prove something."

"The piercing, I meant just do the fucking piercing!"

"Shhhh" He placed his finger to his lips. "An innocent mistake." He grinned, clearly guilty, then ripped open another antiseptic pad. He rubbed away all of the lingering sensation his tongue had left. With a speed that made Adam uneasy he grabbed the forceps, marked his nipple on either side, and ran the needle through into a cork.

"UUUNNNNnnnh! Fffuuuck...."

The straps served their purpose, as his hips lunged upward again as soon as the needle touched his skin. He had softened in between the piercings, but he was again pushing through his boxers.  
Anubis thread the ball onto the bar, dropped his tools began rifling through Adam's pockets.

"I need your license for Age and Consent purposes. You can calm down while I go scan it into our system."

"System? What kind of system?" Adam's voice was breathy. Anubis reached into Adam's back pocket, probing more than he needed to until he found a flimsy leather billfold.

"It's just a paper filing system. I'm not putting you in some digital, traceable network of degenerates. I have to keep records for five years. I gotta get you to sign a form, too."

Adam was still reeling and panting.

"R-right."

***

  
"Anubis, are we supposed to scan everyone's license?" He was at the photocopier, waiting for it to wake up and pump out the copy. He stared blankly into the wall, replaying in his mind Adam's inability to control his hips.

"Huh?"

"Aiden here, sir, Mr. Anubis, you know, worked here for three years. Why are you scanning this guy's license?" She picked up the fresh, warm copy.

"We don't need to, it's actually a security risk..." He leaned in a little closer "but I think this guy is a weirdo. I think it's good for legal reasons, in case something comes up. Don't mention it."

"Sure thing." She saluted dramatically and spun on her feet to help another customer.

When Anubis returned with the form, Adam had already dressed and was standing awkwardly at the wall, staring through the artwork. He looked like he had just been caught smoking pot at his friends fifteenth birthday party.

"Here you go." Anubis thrust a pen at him. "Sign here. It just says you consented to being pierced, you're over 18, etcetera."

"Okay." He was dazed. He signed it against the wall in a shaky script.

"You said something about moving at the party? Put your current address here at the bottom."

"Yeah."

"Here's you care instructions; NO peroxide or alcohol. Gentle soap. Six Months. Call me if anything looks... gooey. It's gonna crust, don't call me if it's just crusty. Call me if anything is green. Here's the number at the top."

"Ugh." The thought of having to contact this loser ever again made him feel ill. He paled and placed his hand over his mouth. "Right."

_He just realized what he did. Hopeless guy._ Anubis found it amusing.

Adam shambled out of the front door without a goodbye or a thanks. _Free $150 piercing, free jewelry. Ungrateful shit._

Anubis waited half an hour, beyond all reasonable chance Adam would return. He strolled over to the copier after he had finished piercing a little girl's ears. He lifted the cover.

"Oh _nooo_. I've **accidentally** kept King's license. He must be _so inconvenienced_ without it. I'll just have to return it _directly to him in person_ early in the morning tomorrow since I just _happen_ to have his newest address." He held the consent form up to the license. _I wonder if this is his parent's house on the license? It's not the college. Oh he's too stupid. Nowhere to run. Ausberge. What a stupid last name._

***

  
Graduation came and went. It was the day after Adam _intended_ to have his nipple piercing removed. He had waited for this moment for years, but when the event and celebration was all over, he realized he couldn't even remember much of it.  
He almost suffocated in the heat, wearing two undershirts to hide his piercings. He walked up on stage ready to vomit, sure everyone could see them through the two tees, dress shirt, dress jacket, and graduation gown. He shook the President's, then the Dean's hand, unable to look them in the eye. Later he would find out that his hand shake portrait had him staring a hundred yards past the camera and pale. Though no one said anything, he would wonder if the photographer had discretely edited his nipples bumps out of the picture: everyone must have been able to see them.

He spent his entire, milestone event in as much panic as pain. Never one for a nervous bladder, he excused himself five times in as many hours to the restroom: where he pulled up all of his layers to touch the bandages just to check. See if they were sticking out. They weren't, but he didn't trust his judgement anymore; not after getting a second piercing against his own will. He ran his fingers over the layers of shirts until he felt like he had confirmed sufficiently that they were padded down enough. But as long as he could feel them it felt like they would be discovered. Each time he obsessively tucked each shirt back in; by the end of the day his belt line was raw and inflamed from pulling and re-tucking.

Multiple aunts, uncles, and cousins all came to support him along with his mom, dad, and younger sisters. They all congratulated him, asked him what his plans were ("Look for a job!") inquired about girlfriends ("I was too busy studying!") and if he had any internships ("I didn't get the chance!"). People surrounded him, toasted him, celebrated and cajoled, shared stories of his childhood. They smiled any time his face turned in their direction (except for one cousin, 15, who seemed to be having their own crisis via text). He hoped no one could tell that he was looking right through him; just looking for anywhere to put his gaze in his stupor.

The only face he could see was Anubis; that nasty smirk and the too small piercing room, his sneering at Adam with something like fascination and revulsion. He could only think about how angry he was, how stupid he felt; and by the end of the day, how Anubis had ruined his graduation. _I hate everything down to his name. What was I thinking?_

When he finally returned to his apartment around 11 p.m., he let himself breath. He pulled off all of the shirts, ripping a button off of his sweat-stained white button-up. The t-shirts were ruined with sweat and caked deodorant as well; he trashed them.  
_He said I have to let them breath, but I don't want to take the bandages off._ He eased the tape off anyway. _I'm going to have to wear two shirts for the rest of my life. Oh God, my parents can't find out._

He slumped into the floor and replayed the last 24 hours in his mind. _Go to get piercing removed, sexually violated, get another piercing, go home, sleep, sleep, wake up, convenience store, drink, drink, buzzed but not drunk, sleep, sleep, wake up, freshly pressed suite, parents pick me up, graduation._

"Oh my God I am fucking starving to death." He had barely eaten at the celebration dinner; the food was too rich for his mood. All he wanted right now was a plain sandwich. He ate and finished shirtless; even the air hurt his chest. He found his way to the bathroom mirror and really looked at his piercings for the first time.

For no discernible reason, he reached up to the right nipple, the newest addition, and pushed it into his chest.

"Oh fuck." He hardened immediately. "Oh God, finally." A feeling came over him that he had repressed too long, and he hated it. He hated himself, but he could deal with that. Right now he just wanted to jerk it and sleep.

The laptop couldn't boot up fast enough; he wanted to fall back on the vanilla porn that he had always used, like he was not some sick freak who could get it off just from pain. The Doorways 12 OS filled the screen with a garish purple and announced: "Update pending. Please wait."

0%

0%

0%

1%

"FFFFFFFFFFFF-"

He slammed it shut and tossed it across the bed. He tried to think about anything else, but the needle threading through his nipple was on a loop in his mind. He pulled his pants off and began to stroke it, trying to finish before his memories became to vivid. It wasn't working though; he slowed down and tried to replay the porno in his mind.

But the needle persisted. The smell of the piercing stall was vivid; the cold, silver tools and the way Anubis shirt rubbed against his stomach when he leaned over him was-

_NOT WHAT I WANT TO THINK ABOUT. IT WAS JUST A VERY SOFT SHIRT._ He renewed his effort, and reached up to the twist the bar in his right nipple. _Oh Fuck it hurts!_

That was all he needed. He grabbed the boxers he had taken off and wrapped them around his dick. Thrusting his hips slightly in rhythm with his strokes, his cock began to pulse. It throbbed with the pain in his nipples. Cum pumped out of his dick, some of it caught by the boxers... much of it missed. There was so much from a week of abstaining, it dripped along his thighs and hand, onto his stomach and sheets.

"Aaaahhh... Unnnngh." _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't come back from this. It feels too good. Nothing else is going to work._ He stood up and tossed the boxers in the trash. He found a rolled of toilet paper and began cleaning up the mess.

"I need a girlfriend. And a job. Girlfriend. Job."


End file.
